


Flight to the East

by herald0fmanwe, silmarilz1701



Series: The Fëanoriel Chronicles [7]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Easterlings, F/M, Far east, Feanoriel Chronicles Series, Fourth Age, Utumno, friends is a strong word for it, more like deadly enemies, some old friends pop up again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-03-11 23:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herald0fmanwe/pseuds/herald0fmanwe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmarilz1701/pseuds/silmarilz1701
Summary: Fifth in Feanoriel Chronicles, picking up where Dreams of Power left off. Aderthon, nephew of King Elessar through Elrohir, is bound to a First Age ring of power that keeps his spirit bound to Arda and sundered from the Undying Lands. When a mysterious elf arrives in Minas Tirith claiming he knows how to destroy it, a quest is set to travel to the East, to seek the ruins of Utumno.Primary Author: Silmarilz1701Contributor: herald0fmanwe





	1. Prologue

**Flight to the East**

**by Silmarilz1701**

* * *

_"The World is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places."_

_J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings_

* * *

**Prologue**

**Year 51 FoA**

**June**

* * *

The ring seemed to pulse sometimes. As Aderthon sat outside his house on a bench, watching the sun rise and splash light all over the city of Minas Tirith, he looked down at the serpent ring. Seven months he had worn it. A new year had come and now waned. Until yesterday there had been no hope of ridding himself of the Ring of Berúthiel.

"A Elbereth Gilthoniel," he sighed, standing from the bench and stretching. He was due in the throne room soon for the formal meeting with Eglanor.

And so an hour later, Aragorn sat on the throne, Arwen beside him. To the king's left, Eldarion stood in a loose outfit, his arms crossed over his chest and concern written on his face. But Aderthon stood next to the prince, anticipation evident in his stance and tapping foot. Beside the queen stood Amdirien, ever eager to partake in matters of state with her mother and father. Even Elboron, representing his father the Prince of Ithilien, stood there.

And before all of them, standing tall and proud with red-golden hair neatly combed and collar popped, stood the elf, Eglanor. He stared straight at the king, undaunted.

"You said yesterday that you have news of a way to help my nephew," Aragorn began slowly, carefully watching the elf's expression.

Eglanor held up a finger. "Yes. But before we continue, I have some… requirements."

The King sat back in surprise, glancing at Arwen for a moment. The entire company paused, waiting on bated breath. But Eglanor merely smiled.

Aragorn sighed. "What are your requirements, master elf?"

"Two. First, I have made some enemies in my life and travels, and I should like to be protected from them should the need arise," Eglanor told him. Then he hid a sneer and continued. "This should not be too difficult. You are the hope of your people, no?"

Aragorn continued immediately, ignoring his statement. "Your second demand?"

"A full pardon for all past transgressions," said the elf simply. "As easily done as a wave of your hand."

Aragorn nearly coughed in surprise. "How shall I forgive you? I am unaware your transgressions. I cannot pardon without knowing them."

"You are the King, are you not?" Eglanor smirked. He gestured to Aderthon. "You can do that, and you will, if you want your nephew to be severed from that ring."

But Aragorn did not react well to threats. "Or I could arrest you."

Eglanor smiled wide. "On what charges, King Elessar?"

Arwen held up her hand as Aragorn faltered for words. She leaned forward and looked at the elf closely. "What you ask is unheard of, Eglanor."

"The help you need is also unheard of," he quipped back. He looked around at the others. "A guide through the Far East, to Utumno and all the wide lands between here and there. My demands are small in comparison to that."

Aragorn frowned. "What you say is true. But I cannot grant the pardon immediately. We will call you again when we have decided our answer."

"Do not take too long." Eglanor turned and left without even a bow.

Once he had left the throne room, chaos broke out among those who had been present. Eldarion shook his head fiercely as Aderthon argued for the pardon. Elboron and Amidiren whispered quietly, and the king and queen leaned in and spoke to each other.

"I do not like it," Aragorn muttered, holding his hand up for silence.

But Aderthon argued with him, "What other option is there? To wander off without a guide deep into the east and hope we find the ruins of Utumno?"

"Aderthon," Eldarion said shaking his head. "I would be the first to accompany you, but this Eglanor is not what he appears."

"He appears to be an arrogant, well travelled elf," Aderthon bit back. He turned to the king. "Would you not be, had you traveled this continent since the days of the first rising of the Sun and Moon?"

Aragorn frowned and sat back into the throne. "I am afraid we have little choice but to go along with him." He gestured to Aderthon. "I made a promise to your parents. You will be protected."

"But who will protect him from Eglanor, should the need arises?" Arwen asked quietly.

"I can defend myself against a single adversary," Aderthon assured her. He glanced at the king. "Give me leave, my lord, to head east and rid myself of this curse alongside Eglanor."

Aragorn nodded slowly. "I give you leave. But I beg you, do not trust him. I will give him the demands he seeks, and we will watch him closely. But you, Aderthon, must be vigilant."

Eldarion spoke up quickly. "Where he goes, I also will go." He smirked. "Someone needs to keep his head on straight."

The entire royal family frowned as one. But Aragorn nodded. "I knew you would say this. I do not wish it, and would stop you if I could. But I know you would disobey me anyways."

"Perhaps Akilina will accompany us through Rhûn," Eldarion added after bowing to his father.

Arwen nodded to him. "If she will go, take her. And Círeth also."

"We will decide more details later. For now, I must see to the demands Eglanor gave me." The king stood and left with Arwen and Amdirien, leaving the others behind.

Elboron frowned. "This is a bad idea."

"Better than having no hope at all!" Aderthon all but pouted. "At least this way I shall either be free of it, or die trying."

Eldarion shook his head vehemently. "You will not die."

The three companions left the throne room. Elboron left them to head home, but Aderthon and Eldarion found themselves soon in the training grounds. They sparred for a while, joined by a few of Aderthon's guard. When the sun rose at noon, a porter came and fetched them. Aderthon and Eldarion joined the others in the throne room once more, Eglanor before them. The elf had a smirk on his face.

"Eglanor, you are hereby pardoned of all past transgressions, minor and major, by King Elessar of the Reunited Kingdom." The king stood and handed a scroll with the royal seal to the elf. "I also pledge to give you protection from your enemies as long as I am alive."

Eglanor took the scroll and smiled back. "In that case, shall we begin?"


	2. Bound by Blood

The sun had sunk beneath the horizon several hours before. Now the moon glinted high in the sky, surrounded by a crown of stars and to the North, Eärendil’s star shined the brightest. Eldarion stood in the courtyard of the White Tree, watching out over the city from the beginning of the outcrop. He saw directly below him, in the sixth level, movement by Aderthon’s house.

 

The prince, seeing his cousin awake, hurried down a level and managed to catch the man a ways down. Aderthon didn't even turn to look at him. “How did I know you'd somehow manage to sense I was awake?”

 

“Luck,” Eldarion said with a wry smile. “And I know you too well.”

 

Aderthon snorted and looked at him. “I am heading to the tavern.”

 

“Ah!” Eldarion grinned. “This I guessed also.”

 

Aderthon laughed with him. They made their way down to the first level of the city. Neither wore clothes identifying who they were. Few citizens of Minas Tirith remained awake at that late hour but those that did were in the tavern. Aderthon thrust open the door and they walked in together. They chose a booth on the first level, in a secluded corner away from the other rowdy patrons.

 

Once seated, the tavern keep came over and bowed to them. “My lords! I thought it was you when you entered. What’ll it be tonight?”

 

“Dwarven ale, the best you can find,” Aderthon asked with a smirk. “For me at least.”

 

Eldarion laughed. “I will take a glass of Dorwinion wine.”

 

“Coming right up, m’lords!” The large man bowed again and ran off to get their orders together. 

 

The cousins sat in silence at first. Finally Eldarion spoke up. “What Eglanor told us today is hopeful. Utumno still stands, partially at least, and he knows the way.”

 

“Yes,” Aderthon agreed. “I spoke with Círeth. She is eager to go. And Akilina has agreed to take us through Rhûn as far as the edge of their inland sea.”

 

Eldarion nodded and thanked the barman as he set their drinks down. Once he'd left, Eldarion took a sip of the red wine and continued. “And Nimwing?”

 

Aderthon shook his head and stared into his tankard of ale. “I cannot ask her to go.”

 

“She will be furious if you do not,” the prince pointed out astutely. “And we could use her help. My father has already asked Ambi of the dwarves to accompany us as well, seeing as how the Orocarni is home to three dwarven tribes at least.”

 

“Did he say yes?” Aderthon looked up at Eldarion in surprise. “I got the impression that he does not like it here.”

 

Eldarion chuckled. “I think Ambi merely dislikes not feeling useful. He is here more as a foil to Nîm, to keep the young lord in line and help him.”

 

“So he did say yes?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

Aderthon nodded and then sighed. “Me, you, Eglanor, Círeth, Akilina, Ambi.”

 

“Nimwing,” Eldarion added quickly.

 

Aderthon glared at him. “I will not put her in danger. There is a decent chance none of us come back, and it already pains me to see you and my sister going!”

 

“It is not up to you,” Eldarion argued. “She will hear of the quest sooner or later, and will insist on coming. That is her choice.”

 

“I am debating taking Faervel as well. Another good fighter would be a welcome,” Aderthon continued, ignoring Eldarion. They both took drinks of their alcohol as they considered this. “But then, he has a family here.”

 

Eldarion frowned. “Two young children, correct?”

 

“Yes.” The other man paused. “What of Hweston? He is skilled with both ranged and close combat weapons.”

 

“Hweston’s sister is terribly ill,” Eldarion reminded Aderthon. “Taking him away would be cruel.”

 

“Right.” Aderthon leaned back in the wooden booth and frowned. He fiddled with the handle of his tankard, tapping on it while in contemplating who to take.

 

Eldarion decided to change the subject. “Alphros has looked impressive since you started training him in earnest.”

 

“Indeed he does!” Aderthon grinned. “He is a wonderful swordsman, eager for thrill in battle and with a spirit that not even hours of hard training can quench.”

 

Eldarion chuckled. “He takes after his sparring partner.”

 

With a rueful smile, Aderthon shook his head. He glanced around the tavern and saw a few groups of peasants lounging around. In the car corner, a game of darts created a commotion. But between the pipesmoke and the haze of the candles and fireplace, everything stayed rather dim and quiet. Aderthon enjoyed nights such as these.

 

“Sixteen years ago we traveled north, traveled through the wild.” Aderthon sighed. “All of us were eager then. And while I am eager to rid myself of this ring, even the thought of visiting lands never seen by our people cannot bring back the joy of exploring I felt before the Battle for Arnor.”

 

“We cannot get back what we lost,” Eldarion reminded him softly. “Yet we endure this hardship together, as we always have.” He paused before continuing. “Often I think of Beren and Lúthien, our forebears. They set off on a quest deemed impossible. They ran from comfort to certain death and yet came out the stronger. Lady Lúthien lost her immortality, and both lost their lives, and yet they persevered even through death itself.”

 

Aderthon nodded. “The Lay of Leithian is truly a remarkable tale. But often I feel more like Túrin than Beren.”

 

Eldarion frowned. “Do not say such a thing. You are  _ not  _ Túrin Turambar. You are Aderthon of the House of Fëanoriel, son of Prince Elrohir and Lady Míril, nephew of the king and a commander of the army.” He raised his Dorwinion wine. “This may be a tough time for you, and that ring may have cursed you for now, but we will free you. I shall wring Eglanor's neck if he leads us into danger. He won't know what hit him.”

 

Aderthon laughed and clinked his tanker with his cousin's. “If he leads us into danger then together we will send him a clear message not to mess with the descendants of Lúthien Tinuviel!”


	3. Routes

A few days later, the proposed group of travelers decided to meet together in a small room of a tavern called Daeron's Drink. Unlike the couple of taverns on the first level, this one was a well respected, well loved meeting place for the wealthier citizens of the Reunited Kingdom.

"Where is Eglanor?" Ambi growled after taking a drink from his dwarven ale. He placed it firmly back on a table.

Aderthon sighed. "Hopefully he will be here soon."

"Until then, we must wait patiently," Eldarion reminded them all.

Círeth drummed her fingers on the wooden table top while Akilina sat silent. Her shoulder length black hair didn't even stir when she slowly picked up her Dorwinion wine. Ambi continued to cast dark glances her way. Beside Aderthon sat Nimwing who, as Eldarion had guessed, did in fact insist on going. Aderthon's cheek still stung and a slight red hue glowed there from where she'd slapped him.

A few minutes later and a knock sounded on the door. Eldarion opened it quickly. The flaxen haired elf they all expected appeared now before them. He stood high and looked down upon the seated company with poorly hidden disdain.

"A tavern?" Eglanor frowned.

Ambi glared. "A good place for a meeting. Sit and have a drink, or I shall drink yours for you."

With a dramatic sigh, the elf sat down between Eldarion and Aderthon. He drew out a large parchment map from beneath his outer robe and laid it down before them. It was a map of all of Middle Earth, including the sunken lands of Beleriand and the Far East. Drawn but unmarked sat the Dark Lands far to the South, beyond even Harad and Khand.

Here and there a line of script lay scratched out, especially near the Beleriand side. Eglanor laid his finger on the Sea of Rhûn.

"This will be the first point we make for," he began. "From there we will travel through the Orocarni. There, the Blacklocks and Stonefoots have their dwelling places."

"My people have not heard from the Stonefoots since they sent us help in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs." Ambi looked at the map carefully. "Have you come across them recently?"

"Recent enough," Eglanor assured him plainly. "They exist."

"But are they friendly," added Nimwing cautiously.

Ambi rolled his eyes. "Of course they are. They are dwarves, and dwarves do not bow to evil."

"No," Eglanor muttered, narrowing his eyes. "They do not easily bow to evil. But there have existed those that embraced the Shadow. The Petty-dwarves, for example."

Ambi scoffed at him. "They were not true dwarves. My kindred fought beside the great elf lords, Eglanor, as you should remember. I recall you saying you were there!"

"Yes I was there, master dwarf. I was also there when the dwarves of Nogrod slew the great King Thingol to steal the Nauglamir. Or have you forgotten that?" Eglanor sent him a small smile. He turned to the rest of the company. "It is no matter. The Stonefoots may or may not aid us. But the Blacklocks certainly will."

"And from there?" Aderthon asked quickly. He looked closer at the map. A red dot stood in the upper right corner, deep in a mountain range. "Is that the ruins?"

"Yes." Eglanor gestured to the general area directly below it. "There remain six elven kindreds, six tribes, in the East. The Kinn-lai are in the south, near to Khand. The Kwendi live closest to the ruins, in the northern forests. The Hwenti reside in the central plains, while the remaining three kindreds are along the eastern shore."

"Are they evil?" Nimwing ventured once more. "I do not think elves would fall to the shadow, but Carmegil taught me the history of the Noldor well enough to know they have in days past."

Eglanor nodded to her. "They have. The kindreds are not fond of outsiders, shunning even one another. But they are our best hope for surviving this expedition. Fortunately I know their languages, and I have come across some few who speak Westron, having traveled to Khand and Harad." He glanced over at Ambi. "They will not like us having a dwarf in our mix."

"The dwarves of the Red Mountains will not like having elves, either," Círeth replied instantly, cutting of Ambi's biting remark. She leaned forward, facing Eglanor from across the table. "That doesn't change us bringing you."

Eglanor smiled. "No. Of course not."

"Eglanor, have you an idea of how long this will take?" Eldarion looked at the map curiously.

"Three months at least to reach the ruins. From there, it depends. By that time winter will be setting in and reaching the ruins may be difficult." He frowned slightly. "At least a month there, and depending on how we return home, three to five months."

"How else might we return?" Ambi frowned slightly. "Surely we would take the same path?"

"If Rhûn remains as dangerous as it is now, I would suggest going home by the way of Khand and the Harad Road." He drew his finger along the map. "Khand might accept us. They have emissaries here in the Reunited Kingdom, no?" He turned to Eldarion and Aderthon."

Eldarion hesitated. "Yes, we have several wise men from Khand who share with our professors and lore masters. We also have a single representative who lives here, a man called Asani." Then he paused. "However that being said, relations are not entirely stable."

"And yet they are more stable than with Rhûn, considering you recently killed their Queen," Eglanor pointed out. "That is what put you in this predicament, Aderthon?"

"It was her, or us," snorted the half-elf. Aderthon shook his head. "Better she lose her life than we lose ours."

Akilina, finally breaking her silence, placed her wine glass down after sipping it again. She spoke plainly in a voice commanding respect. "I can lead you down safe paths in Rhûn. But I will not go past the Red Mountains. Returning may be more difficult without me as a guide."

Eldarion nodded. He looked at the map from Eglanor's left, breathing slowly and nodding to himself still. Finally he looked up. "Very well. We shall decide when the time comes. What we need to decide now is when to leave."

"As soon as possible!" Eglanor rolled up the map. "Every day we delay it gets closer to winter. And foul things always grow bolder in the winter months."

"Not to mention the weather itself," Círeth quickly reminded them. Even the borders of Rhûn are cold and snowy in the winter."

Ambi nodded alongside her. "We should try to be over the Red Mountains as quickly as possible."

Eldarion nodded. "Then we shall leave in a week's time. I shall let me father know."


	4. The Beginning

The week passed swiftly. Aderthon and Círeth both composed letters to Fëalas to be sent her way. The whole affair happened too swiftly for word to be sent to bring her home from her post near Harad. It was decided at the last to have Alagos, a ranger captain under Círeth's command, to accompany them. He was a tall man, in his forties with dark hair and a particularly strong will. Círeth trusted him above all her other rangers and insisted that if they were to take anyone else, he should be the one.

"Captain!" Alagos called to her in the dark dawn of that morning. He hurried to catch up with the redhead as they walked to the stables on the sixth level. He marched her pace.

"Good morning," she said to him as he caught her. Círeth turned to him as they walked. "You are sure you want to come?"

"Let you go by yourself and get killed for your crazy brother?" Alagos chuckled. "Not a chance."

Círeth rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You exaggerate both your capabilities and Aderthon's insanity."

It was his turn to laugh at her. "Ah see, I think I am right on both counts."

Upon reaching the stables, they found several others there already. The morning was still early; the sun had yet to rise. Aderthon and Eldarion stood beside their magnificent steeds, outfitted with black leather bridles and saddles but without the colors of their country. Ambi had just finished tacking up his strong pony and led her out into the square.

"You two are the last," Aderthon said with a small smirk. He gestured to the stable doors.

Eglanor and Nimwing both exited the stables now. Eglanor's black stallion seemed rearing to go and pranced around before the elf calmed him with a single, unintelligible word.

Círeth ducked inside and fetched her brown stallion. It didn't take her or Alagos long to prepare the horses for travel. They attached their saddlebags and copious number of weapons, including a particularly large number of arrows. Soon Akilina appeared with her black horse and a pack pony laden with non perishable food, blankets, and other necessities including lembas traded from Eryn Lasgalen and cram from Dale they'd found in the market.

The company of eight stood in the court of the sixth level. The sun now began to shine in the East and offered some amount of comfort to them.

"What are we waiting for?" Eglanor grumbled. "We should be off."

"My father will be here momentarily," Eldarion assured him.

And as he finished saying that, King Elessar did indeed come into view. Beside him walked Elboron, son of the Steward. Elboron held in his hands a wooden box. When they approached, all fell silent and watched carefully.

Aragorn shot them a half smile as he stopped before them. "I do hope you all come back. What you set out to do is unheard of and certainly perilous." He sighed and looked at Eldarion for a moment before continuing. "But I believe the will of the Valar is with you."

"That will see us through," Eldarion responded quickly.

Aragorn nodded. "I believe it to be so." He turned to Elboron and nodded. "I have brought you parting gifts."

Elboron opened the box and looked sadly at Eldarion and Aderthon. He frowned slightly. Aragorn took from the box a pin. It was a silver star. He pinned seven stars to each traveler's breast, all except Eldarion. For Eldarion he bestowed a silver tree pin.

"Seven stars and a white tree," Aragorn nodded as if a decision had finally been made. "The support of the free peoples goes with you all!"

Eldarion, Aderthon, Círeth, and Alagos all knelt on single knees before their king. The others except for Eglanor bowed their heads. But the old flaxen haired elf merely smirked and watched with poorly hidden contempt.

"Look for us from the East," Aderthon reminded his uncle as they embraced. "From there we shall return."

"I will watch eagerly," Aragorn assured him. He leaned closer and whispered, "Keep your cousin safe."

Aderthon nodded. "Always."

Aragorn turned to Eldarion and hugged his son. "I will watch from the White Tower. Keep your cousins safe."

"Always," Eldarion replied immediately.

Aragorn turned to the rest after embracing Círeth and nodded to them slowly. "Go now, and fulfill your quest." They all mounted, but Aragorn halted Eglanor and spoke quietly. "Do not lead them astray, master elf."

Eglanor sneered. "I have no death wish, and would not trust your word if I returned without either one."

With a last nod to the king, the expedition set out down the street of Minas Tirith. Eldarion's blue cloak and Aderthon's red had been replaced by the dark green of the rangers. Everyone had been outfitted with them. They billowed behind the travelers in the wind of the June early morning. The steady clip-clop of the horse hooves was the only sound in the streets.

The guards heaved open the mithril gates, allowing them to pass through. The brilliant sunrise had all the company in high spirits. They knew it would take a week to reach Dagorlad, the Battle Plain, and the Ered Lithui, the Ash Mountains, that was the northern border of Mordor. It would be a relatively easy ride, as all that land remained protected by the eastern Dúnedain. The real challenge would begin in about three weeks, when they would cross into Rhûn.

Akilina spent a good deal of time telling them about the dangers they would face, Wainriders, giant spiders, fierce bears, and mercenary bandits being a few of them. The first few nights passed easily without much to do. All stayed in high spirits except for Eglanor who seemed perpetually irritated with everyone. Ambi spent most of his time by himself staying as far away from Eglanor as possible.

On the fifth night from Minas Tirith, they halted at the foot of Rauros. The roaring of the massive waterfall droned on behind them, and they did their best to camp in an area of trees far enough away to allow for conversation. Marshland extended around them, but there were some areas of dry land. Ambi, Eldarion, and Alagos volunteered to take watch first.

Ambi sat against a tree. He pulled his pack closer to him and settled back. Next to him, Alagos rustled in his own bag, trying desperately to find something. Eldarion meanwhile stood a few feet away, looking up at the stars and the waterfall.

"What're you trying to do," Ambi asked Alagos as quietly as he could, slightly irritated by the man's noisy movements. "Something alive in there?"

Alagos shot him a wry smile that was almost lost in the dark. He finally pulled out a bottle. "Better."

Ambi grinned back and took his own flask from his own bag. "Ah, kindreds spirits then, laddie. Nothing quite like good ale on a starry night such as this."

"Agreed," said the ranger. "But my choice is Dorwinion wine."

Ambi shrugged and asked, "What vintage you got there?"

"Year 1." Alagos grinned and filled his flask with the wine so he could put the bottle away. "I brought a good many bottles so that when my Captain gets irritated with us we can calm her down with it."

Ambi laughed. "Is that so?"

"Indeed." Alagos took a swig. "The rangers in our company definitely enjoy a good drink."

"Mahal's beard you lot do impress." Ambi snickered. "Come, ranger. Tell me what you know of the rest of our company then."

They settled into hushed whispers which really only they could hear being so close to each other. Eldarion continued his silent vigil while the rest slept soundly. Alagos continued on.

"Lady Nimwing, she's the ambassador from Amon Loth of course. Word is she battled a Nazgûl once upon a time and fought beside King Thranduil." He shrugged. "She's good with a sword is all I know."

"Interesting." Ambi nodded and frowned. "She seems rather close to the Prince's cousin."

Alagos nodded and shot him a wry smile. "And there we come to the most interesting member of our company." He sat against the tree a bit closer. "Lord Aderthon is a good man, some call him a great one. And indeed he might be."

"But?"

"But he also has a temper fierce enough to put most of Gondor's elite to shame." Alagos shrugged. "There's no denying his devotion to the Reunited Kingdom, or to his family. His sacrifice to save us and kill Berúthiel was brave, though stupid."

"Landing us in this pretty situation in the first place," agreed Ambi quickly. He gave a long sigh and took a drink. "Still, I can't say I'm not looking forward to seeing the lands that lay beyond Erebor and Rhûn."

They quieted down for a few minutes and watched as Eldarion stopped his staring and turned, walking to join them. He eyed them suspiciously, gesturing to the top of a bottle poking out of Alagos' pack. "Is that alcohol?"

He hesitated. "Yes my lord."

Eldarion smirked. "Did you two bring enough to share?"

"For you my lord?" Alagos laughed and caught the flask Eldarion tossed him. "Absolutely."


	5. A Dispassionate Historical Perspective

When the morning dawned, it wasn't much of a dawn at all. Storm clouds obscured the rising sun, and what little light made it through them served only to illuminate the glittering rain drops. The rain came in torrents. Each traveler became soaked to the bone within minutes of the start. Even the alcohol that Alagos poured down his throat and shared with everyone else did little to boost their morale.

"I wonder if Manwë is laughing at us," muttered Nimwing quietly to Aderthon. She picked her feet carefully between mud patches.

Aderthon shrugged as he pulled his hood over his head even further. "Probably. Ulmo too." He glared at his left foot which sank into a mud hole. "By the Valar…"

Ambi ran into him from behind as he stopped suddenly. He growled, "Watch yourself, lad!"

"Sorry," Aderthon muttered back, finally shaking his boot free. "These damnable marshes only get worse in the rain."

Making sure to be heard above the rain, Círeth turned and called to them from where she walked beside Akilina. "Just be grateful we are leading you. Otherwise you'd be lost, brother!"

Aderthon made a face at her but didn't argue. He knew she spoke correctly. Neither he nor Eldarion were familiar with the Dúnedain trails of eastern Gondor. Without his sister, Alagos, or Akilina, they would've been done before any of it started. Except maybe if Eglanor had decided to help.

As it was, the old elf seemed merely content to trail in the middle, hiding his amber flaxen hair beneath the rich red and gold trimmed hood that he'd refused to part with. Often he'd mutter to himself in some rough dialect of elvish that none ever managed to make out. By the time they began to isolate the words, he always stopped speaking.

"We're almost to the road," Alagos assured them as he fell into step beside the dwarf and behind Aderthon and Nimwing. "The Captain knows this route well."

For the next four to five hours, they picked their way carefully along a hidden path used by the rangers. Once and awhile someone would slip, but only Aderthon fell fully. He groaned about it for the next hour, and Nimwing did her best to diffuse his irritation. The last thing they needed was for their leader to give up because of some mud.

It poured off and on for the next four days. By the end, they had reached the road and were significantly more grumpy than when they'd started out. Nimwing still stayed the most chipper of the group, insisting they treat it as an adventure and reminding them of their luck in being chosen as the first of their nations to travel beyond the Orocarni. Even Ambi could not shoot back a retort at that.

"How much farther, Cír?" Aderthon asked, sitting beside Nimwing on the hard ground of the plains around the Emyn Muil. His sister stood a few feet away, looking off into the distance. "Dagorlad must be close."

On that fifth day since Rauros, the rain had cleared and the sun now shined bright in the sky. It waned now, drifting to set beneath the horizon. The company began to pack for a last push that day before settling in for the night. Círeth turned back to her brother.

"A few more hours and we should reach the signposts. There's a small inn for travelers about three hours away, right near the entrance to Mordor." She picked up her pack, attaching it to her horse and pulled herself up. "Let's get moving!"

"Does Mordor look as bleak as in its days under the Enemy I wonder," Nimwing said aloud. "Or has it recovered from the evil that lived there?"

Eglanor snickered from behind her. "Mordor was never as dark as Sauron ever hoped for, even. If he'd had servants closer to what Melkor had in the days before, it would've rivaled Angband."

"Be careful who you name, master elf," Ambi warned. "That enemy should never be spoken of."

"The Black Foe of the World." Eglanor nodded. "A menacing name for a menacing Vala."

"He is not of their number any longer," Eldarion reminded him quickly.

Aderthon added his own two cents quickly. "My ancestor named him that, and from then on he was not counted among the Powers. Or have you forgotten, Eglanor." He glanced over his shoulder at him.

The tall, old elf narrowed his eyes at Aderthon. A million different expressions crossed his face. "Nay, child of Fëanor. I have not forgotten. Your forefather is why so much destruction occurred for my people in the First Age." He sneered. "Morgoth, as he is named, held great power. But he was blinded by a lust for light that cost him his life in the end. But the Fëanorians and all who followed them were as evil as he." After a moment of silence, Eglanor continued quietly. "The Valar abandoned us. Cast us away because we saw differently from them. We saw potential in the foreign lands."

"Indeed, it is said even Lady Galadriel herself felt the pull of these lands." Nimwing smiled. "I met her once. A wondrous maiden. I will never forget meeting her on the field of battle when she threw down Dol Guldur and cleansed our forest."

Eglanor said no more. He bit his tongue, and Aderthon saw the gleam in his eyes as they marched ever closer to Mordor. He wondered what the elf had seen there to cause him such pain. He knew the tales of the evils the Fëanorians had committed and yet as one of their line, he could not help but wonder if they had been misrepresented in history.

At just past midnight, they saw light on the horizon. Following the road brought them to a small inn, with ten rooms in all for rent, made of dark planks and lit by dozens of candles. When they reached it half an hour later, they left Nimwing and Alagos to settle the horses while Círeth led them inside to see the inkeep.

The woman behind the counter stood stout, and her bone-skinny husband cleaned the floor with movements that looked well practiced. Both looked up upon their arrival.

"Hello! Welcome to the Crossroads Inn!" The woman clapped her hands together and smiled wide. "Come in come in."

"My lady, good sir," Eldarion bowed to them. "We need eight beds, if you please. We've got the coin."

"If you've got the coin, we've got the room," she replied merrily. "Only got three other patrons right now so as long as two of you double up, we've got space."

Eldarion placed the coin on her bar. Her husband nodded at it after it was counted. He turned to the travelers. "Follow me," he said.

All together, as Nimwing and Alagos had entered too, they went after the barman. He left them each at doors, with Eldarion and Aderthon bunking together closest to the exit door.

"The bar's open till four!" called the man to them all before heading back to the main room.

"I am going to take him up on that," Aderthon smirked after dropping his packs in his room. He looked over to his cousin. "You?"

"No. I am going to enjoy a night's rest in a bed!" Eldarion threw himself into the sheets, newly changed into the one clean pair of clothes he still had. "Good night, you fool."

"Good night you crazy man," bit back Aderthon, laughter in his voice. He shut the door quietly behind himself. With a strut in his step, he made his way to the tavern section of the Crossroads Inn. When he reached it, he found two patrons not belonging to their company.

They wore dark greens and browns, with daggers strapped to their sides and one in each right-footed boot. Hoods thrown back revealed middle aged men. One had copper brown hair, the other dark. Rangers.

When they glanced over and caught sight of Aderthon, both gaped and went to stand to attention. But Aderthon shook his head quickly and motioned inconspicuously with his hand. He felt he could trust the innkeepers, but he would rather the company's departure not be the talking poins and pride and joy of this little tavern for the next six months. So he turned to the woman and requested Erebor Ale. Once he paid and had his drink, he walked over to the men.

"Greetings gentlemen." He smiled. "may I sit?"

"Of course, good sir," the copper-topped man smiled. "Please."

Aderthon took a seat at the table, his back to the barmen. With a low voice, he began. "I trust these two, I suppose. But I would rather my departure not be common knowledge across the land."

"Of course, milord." The first man spoke again, "I am Carnmir."

"I am Nenor," added the other. "Milord, what exactly  _are_ you doing?"

Aderthon sighed. "Your Captain is here too. Eight of us are setting out towards Rhûn, to cross the Orocarni and find a way to destroy the ring Berúthiel...gifted to me." He gestured to the ring on his finger. "In the East lies our only hope."

"The Lady Círeth is here?" Nenor grinned. "Ah this is good then. She owes me a drink!"

Aderthon chuckled. "Oh does she now?"

They turned to see Círeth herself, followed by Alagos and Ambi, walk into the room. Her jaw dropped when she caught sight of Carnmir and then she grinned. Alagos immediately joined them at the table, slapping both on the back.

"My friends!" He laughed and slid into the fourth and final seat.

Aderthon chuckled and threw up his hands. "So much for secrecy. Still I do not think it wise to discuss those of us who are royalty. Instead, we are all rangers."

Alagos immediately nodded. "A prudent decision."

When Círeth walked up to them, she slammed a tankard of Laketown Mead in front of Nenor. She grinned.

"I believe that it was what was owed?" She pulled up a chair and sat between her brother and Nenor.

Nenor nodded with a wink. "Precisely."

Círeth turned to Aderthon an began to explain, "I lost a dice game two months ago. Then I got called back home. Never settled the debt."

"Ah that was a good game," Alagos grinned. "Carnmir, you almost won!"

"Yes well," he muttered with a squirm in his chair. "Someday."

Alagos turned back to Aderthon. "Poor Carnmir here hasn't ever won a game against the Captain."

"Carnmir hasn't ever won a game, period," Nenor corrected relentlessly.

The laughter roared through the tavern. Ambi joined them moments later, pulling up his own chair between Alagos and Carnmir. He slammed his ale on the table.

"You lot sure know how to drink," said Ambi with a laugh. "I find I enjoy your company far more than I thought I would."

Alagos chuckled back. "Why thank you, master dwarf."

They stayed drinking and laughing in the warmth of the small tavern, a roaring fire at their backs and warm food and drink to fill their stomachs. They found that Carnmir and Nenor were on their way from Rhûn, heading home for a well earned leave with their families. They had been on the border since the last company had been wiped out before the Battle of Berúthiel, and now wanted a bit of peace and quiet before heading back out.

Aderthon supplied some news to them, explaining without too many details their quest. He trusted anyone that Círeth trusted. They reported back that Rhûn had been rather quiet since Berúthiel's death. The internal power struggles meant less worry about the borders. But orcs had become a bit more of a problem.

"Watch out for them along the Ash Mountains," Carnmir agreed. "They're a nuisance."

"We shall, thank you." Aderthon nodded to them before standing up from his seat. "I fear I should retire to bed. It calls to me, the pillows and sheets and warmth."

Nenor laughed and raised his tankard. "We all know that feeling. Get some rest, sir."

And so he crept quietly back to his room. With a contented sigh, he slipped between covers in clean clothes and felt peace for the first time in over a week. The warmth surrounded him and he finally drifted to sleep.


	6. Hills of the Morannon

The next morning, Círeth urged them to leave before the rising of the sun. Fortunately, no rain fell that day. Spirits brightened. Aderthon eagerly urged them on beside his sister, excited to see the ruins of the Battle Plain. The mountains and the Towers of the Teeth had crumbled which led to the opening into Mordor, but in recent years, some evil things had crawled back into the ancient depths of that land and now threatened the roads.

They bid goodbye to the two rangers from the previous night, and their third companion who had not been present, and set out before first light. Aderthon, Eldarion, and Círeth rode together at the forefront of the group. Three hours passed. Then, during the rising of the sun, they reached the signposts warning travelers to take care, for they entered the Morannon. A road continued around to the left as well as a second heading straight through the Morannon and into Mordor. They took this one.

"Look!" Aderthon grinned as he pointed ahead. Shining in the sunlight of early morning, several standards danced in the wind. "The Hills of the Morannon!"

He hurried forward while the others followed close behind. Aderthon dismounted his horse and attached a lead rope, leading Histo forward up the small path to the top of the right hill. It took a good five minutes to climb to the top, but once reached there were many sights to see.

"If only Elfwine had come," Aderthon murmured to himself as he looked up into the sky and saw two great battle standards flying in the wind.

Eldarion nodded from where he joined the son of Elrohir. "Indeed. I have been here only once, when we came with our parents as children. Truly a remarkable sight."

Two flags, one bearing the crest of Eorl, a white steed upon a field of green, and one bearing the crest of Dol Amroth, a white swan ship upon a field of blue, towered above them. Upon the hill stood a plaque.

" _A field of green with steed striding high_

_"A sea of blue with ship in azure sky._ "

"Here they stood," Eldarion murmured as everyone joined them atop the hill. "Prince Imrahil and his Knights, and King Éomer with the Rohirrim."

Nimwing, Ambi, and Akilina stood quietly. But Alagos, Eldarion, Aderthon, and Círeth bowed their heads deeply. Eglanor's face remained cold as stone, with only a flash of discomfort crossing his expression. After several moments, Aderthon nodded and led the way down the other side. Fifty yards beyond the first hill stood a second, and he led the way up this one as well.

In a fashion similar to the right hand hill, this one had two flags and a plaque also. The left flag flew the standard of Aragorn, while the right flew the crest of Elrond in honor of the elf lord's twin sons. The sun glinted and sparkled off the points of metal at the top of each. Beneath the two huge flags stood a similar plaque to the other hill.

Aderthon read it aloud to his companions. "A tree of white upon sable field. Two stars of grey upon an elven shield."

Eglanor's frown deepened. "A bit dramatic."

Ambi rolled his eyes. "Twas a wondrous victory. We have similar monuments in the North, at Erebor."

"Yes, I'm sure you do," Eglanor drawled. He turned to the two leaders, the prince and his cousin. "Come. We should not remain here overlong. It's best we get moving."

Aderthon frowned, looking first up at the standards and then after at the great ruins of the Black Gate not far to the East. He could almost feel the difference in goodness, but later when asked to explain he could not. Mordor felt colder, and the standards light. But he dismissed it. Gondor kept good watch on the northern parts of the Black Land these days, and to the South, the men of Nurn watched it.

"You speak correctly," Aderthon agreed with a nod. With a last pause, he laid his hand on the pole of the flag of Elrond's sons. "Namárië, atar amilyë." He then so quickly proceeded to leave that place down the other side that he missed Ambi whispering to Círeth.

"What did he say?" asked the dwarf, and Alagos and Nimwing both leaned in as well.

Círeth did not reply at first, as she too murmured the words and repeated her brother's gesture. But as they walked down the hill, she turned to them. "Farewell, father and mother."

They remained quiet, though Nimwing seemed to quicken her pace to join up beside her beloved. She did not know the tongue of the Elder Days - as a Doriathrin Sinda, Carmegil had not spoken it - so she was glad that Círeth had willingly translated their mumurings.

Alagos brought up the rear beside Ambi, directly behind Eglanor and Akilina. They all mounted their steeds upon reaching the bottom of the hill and rejoining the road. Soon it would end; directly past the Dagorlad it continued North through Wilderland and into Rhovanion until at last it split again, one road going to Amon Lanc where the Elven King held court, and the other heading to Erebor and Dale. This was of course not their route.

No known roads, only discreet ranger paths, went to Rhûn. And yet even these they would not be using. The company planned to hug the Ash Mountains for about two and a half weeks before turning north to reach the Sea of Rhûn's southern edge. From there, Eglanor told them he knew how best to cross the dangerous Orocarni.

"The Dagorlad is still a desolate wasteland," muttered Ambi to Alagos from atop his pony. "Makes you wonder what it would've been like under Sauron's rule. Even worse."

"Trust me," Eglanor piped up. "You would not have enjoyed the hordes of orcs Sauron kept here."

Ambi and Alagos urged their steeds forward until they flanked him to either side. Neither was particularly fond of Eglanor; Ambi least of all. But their curiosity had been peaked.

"You remember it then?" Alagos ventured.

"Indeed I do. I fought in the Siege of Barad-dûr." He narrowed his eyes. "Nearly met my end there."

Alagos' eyes shot wide. "Truly?"

Eglanor turned and smirked at the ranger. "You think too highly of elves. Elves die as men do in battle. Blood runs think from our wounds."

"All die," Akilina chipped in from where she walked in front of them. "Even servants of the dark. It is one constant."

Eglanor's expression darkened. He paused before nodding in agreement. "Yes."

As they traveled through the day, they stopped only once after the hills of the Morannon. As the sun waned in the sky, setting in the far west, the company reached the base of the corner of the Ash Mountains, just past the Dagorlad plain. They stopped at a shallow cave in the rocks, for rain loomed again on the horizon. Mid June promised to be a wet one.

The cave, though relatively shallow, had enough space inside for everyone and the horses, too. After cooking dinner, including a good bit of meat they'd brought along from the inn, all settled into sleep except Aderthon who volunteered to take first watch. He left the cave and crawled up onto some fallen boulders for a better look at the sky and surrounding area.

He sat with his legs bent and arms on his knees, wearied face in his hands. With a sigh, he uncovered his face and turned it up towards the stars shining far above him. Some nights, like that night, all of Aderthon's thoughts turned back to the Battle for Arnor. His heart yearned for the days of peace as a young man, living the life of a captain in the army, a privileged and beloved son of royalty. He had two loving parents and three siblings. Now he had no parents and two siblings here in Middle Earth. Where had they gone wrong with Tinneth?

For the first few years after the war, while his parents had remained in Gondor, he'd  _hated_ Tinneth for her betrayal. But after they left, and now sixteen years later, he found himself more sorrowful than hate filled. He missed his littlest sister and wondered what he could've done different. Having been the one to finally kill her, stab a sword through her chest while anger coursed through his veins, meant he felt the weight of her death more than either of his remaining siblings.

Suddenly he felt a mist of rain beginning. Thankful for the subtle precipitation as it hid the tears streaming down his cheeks, he looked up at the few stars gleaming between clouds. The clouds weren't so thick as to obscure the sky much. Aderthon knew his hair grew damper by the minute, but the cool rain felt pleasant against his skin.

He immediately noticed a flash of blonde hair and green elven garb as Nimwing left the cave and climbed up beside him. She sent a small smile his way, one filled with a bit of pity and a lot of love. He gave a small laugh of surprise and disbelief before scooting over to the right to give her space. She smiled back at him, this time wider, and moved to wipe the tears from his face.

"My entire face is wet," Aderthon whispered in disbelief. "How can you even tell?"

She teased him quietly. "I am one of very few, I'd guess, who have seen you cry, don't forget that."

He chuckled and grabbed her hand. "You do not let me." When he retreated back in on himself moments later, they returned to silence.

She paused and let her smile drop. "Tinneth?"

"She would have liked you, I think," Aderthon said with a nod. He released a breath and looked up at the sky which was now clear of clouds. The spitting rain had stopped. "She would've loved to hear tales of your battles in Mirkwood."

Nimwing leaned her head on his shoulder. "What was she like, Aderthon?"

"Fiery." His mouth seemed to contort between a smirk and a grimace as he spoke. "She was a firecracker. More often than not, full of anger. But when she was little…"

Nimwing did not push him for more as he trailed off. She merely waited and watched the stars alongside the man she loved.

"When she was little," he began again, restraining his tears. "She followed me around everywhere. I always used to get so annoyed, you know, because I wanted to play with Eldarion, and Elboron, and she just insisted on ruining that." He laughed a little. "But then when we reached seventeen, eighteen, and she was ten… she stopped following us. She tried to follow Círeth and Fëalas, but with them it was more envy than adoration."

"A thin line to walk," Nimwing said in agreement.

Aderthon nodded. "Indeed. She became obsessive over material goods, over time with our parents and uncles. She wanted more, of everything." He frowned deeper. "By the time I realized her greed had turned to rage and spite, it was too late. I still sent her the occasional message from where she trained up in Arnor with the Dúnedain, but she rarely wrote back."

Nimwing held his hand tightly. She both felt and saw the intense pain and regret that he harbored. It loomed over him like a shadow.

Finally Aderthon finished his story. "I can only assume that Halion latched onto that rage and spite. She had always wanted dominion over others, often times scorning Aragorn's late middle daughter Estelwen and the eldest, Amdirien, for their positions in the line of succession. And so she descended into madness." He paused. "And I was forced to kill her for that."

"Do not forget, she tried to kill your mother. And almost succeeded," Nimwing insisted. "She forced your hand."

Aderthon nodded to her before taking a long look at the star filled sky. "That is what I tell myself."

Far above Eärendil's Star shined. A constant amidst darkness. Aderthon and Nimwing settled into a pleasant silence, taking comfort in being next to one another. They remained there, quietly, for several hours.


	7. Blaze of Ice and Tongue of Fire

When Aderthon woke up he smelled meat cooking over a fire. He grinned and quickly joined the company. Akilina and Eglanor stood outside keep watch, but Ambi quickly handed a strip of seasoned meat to Aderthon. Nimwing joined him as he sat beside Eldarion on the dusty cave floor. Breakfast didn't last long, as all eagerly awaited leaving.

 

“How far, Cír?” Aderthon asked his sister as they led their horses out of the cave.

 

She shrugged. “Akilina thinks three weeks to her base at the Mountains of Rhûn.”

 

“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at the sky. The sun continued to rise, splashing the sky gold. “We should go.”

 

They all mounted and began the trek along the Ash Mountains. The truly depressing feature of these mountains of Mordor was the complete lack of life. The mountains were made of harsh stone in greys and sometimes browns. No trees stood among them. They now relied on the food from the inn, and the cram, lembas, and walking wafers they'd brought from Minas Tirith.

 

Days went by, nights passed. The landscape changed little. Night twenty from Minas Tirith came the same as the rest. The farther East they went, the chillier it got despite it being June. The land seemed to be steadily more devoid of life. It turned out not to be the case.

 

“Let us push on another hour,” Aderthon urged the company as the moon rose. “Just one more.”

 

They grudgingly agreed. It was mostly understood that Aderthon was leader of the company. Eldarion and Eglanor advised him, and Círeth and Akilina acted as guides, but as it was his predicament that started this quest, he led it. 

 

When at last they reached a suitable campsite an hour and a half later, the moon had truly risen. Ambi and Alagos set to work at the fire while Aderthon and Eldarion spoke quietly some ways away. They leaned in, occasionally gesturing one way or another. They’d found an area of the base of the mountains where it opened in a large ring of boulders, with a few large stone formations in the middle area. The fire sat along the back wall of rocks, while the two royals stood at the front open end.

 

“You sure you're feeling all right,” Eldarion mused as he stood beside his cousin. “You've been more withdrawn.”

 

Aderthon smirked at him, turning his head to face his cousin. “I’m fine. Trust me.”

 

But Eldarion remained unconvinced. “You've been isolating yourself. And this is but the beginning of our journey!”

 

Aderthon sneered and walked a bit away. He glared down at the ground, arms folded in defiance. Finally he turned back to Eldarion. His eyes narrowed in confusion, not anger. “Eldarion, draw your sword.” 

 

The prince furrowed his brow, glancing down at the blade. He drew it out and low and behold the blade shone blue. Aderthon drew his own, and the blade of Fëanor’s hand shone with a pale red-gold hue.

 

“Orcs.” Aderthon turned and glanced around them. He raised his voice “Orcs!”

 

The company scrambled up, grabbing their weapons as goblins scrambled over the rocks and into the hollow. Ambi swung his axe over his head and crushed the skull of the lightly armored enemy closest to him. He gave a great cry as he leapt atop a stone formation.

 

Brandishing two lightly curved swords, Eglanor defended himself well. He sneered at the brutish orcs, spitting what they assumed to be curses in a language none understood. Nimwing stood beside him, wielding her sword with deadly accuracy. 

 

Círeth started with her bow, but soon found herself forced to her elven blade. It glowed as well, and she cursed herself for not noticing earlier. Beside her, Alagos defended her flank. Akilina’s ebony blade whipped through the air as she slew orc after orc and threw her silver daggers every so often.

 

But the brunt of the attack came from the opening where Eldarion and Aderthon held their own. The flash of blue and red between the two blades, one like a blaze of ice, the other a tongue of fire, lit the area softly. The screams of orcs bleeding out into the earth filled the entire hollow until it echoed endlessly. Hoot and jeers of the goblins turned to shrieks of terror at the blades of the defenders.

 

Aderthon stabbed Galmegil straight through the bodies of two orcs before kicking them off to the ground. He spun, blocking a jagged blade from hitting his arm. Scowling, he twisted the blade and bashed into the orc before slicing off his arm and head.

 

Fairing equally as well, Eldarion found himself pitted against several smaller goblins. He swung his elven blade to readjust his grip before approaching the closest one and hacking it to pieces.

 

The ambush ended about twelve minutes later, with very few scratches on the side of the company. Nimwing’s arm bled near her shoulder from where an arrow skimmed her skin, and Ambi’s forehead had a small gash. The others seemed relatively unharmed, a bruise here or there.

 

Aderthon bound Nimwing’s injury, cleaning it with purified boiled water and wrapping it tightly. She insisted she was fine, but Aderthon insisted on doing it himself.

 

Together with Ambi and Alagos, Akilina disposed of the goblin bodies. They searched them carefully for anything valuable before moving the corpses out of the hollow. 

 

“They are as repulsive here as they are in Erebor,” muttered Ambi. 

 

Akilina agreed. “All servants of darkness are disgusting.”

 

“I think after that, we deserve some wine.” Alagos led them over to his pack after the last orc had been dealt with. “Here. Take a few drinks and pass it around.” He tossed two bottles, one to Ambi and one to his captain as Círeth approached him.

 

Ambi didn't have to be told twice as he gulped down a drink of the Dorwinion wine. Sweeter than his usual alcohol of choice, still it tasted good after the battle. Círeth did the same before handing it to Nimwing as she sat on a boulder with Aderthon kneeling before her, tying the last bandage to her arm.

 

“Drink, Nimwing,” Círeth said with a small smile. 

 

She grinned and took the bottle as Aderthon stood back up. Looking back over at Alagos, Nimwing raised the bottle and called, “Thank you good sir!” She laughed as he winked back and raised a hand in response.

 

A bit away from the group of revelers, Eglanor and Eldarion looked around the hollow. The prince sighed before reconvening with Eglanor. Neither looked particularly pleased.

 

“We should set two watches tonight,” Eglanor told him. He glanced around them as he stood with his arms folded and swords sheathed. “Where there are this many goblins, there will be more.”

 

“Truly,” Eldarion agreed immediately. “We must be ready. These goblins remind me of those in Moria, with their shorter stature and large numbers.”

 

Eglanor nodded. “The goblins of these mountains are sniveling, evil creatures who are lawless and leaderless. They exist purely to cause trouble.”

 

As they walked back to the others, Eldarion laughed mirthlessly. “All orcs exist for that purpose.” He left Eglanor’s side and approached Aderthon and Nimwing who chatted quietly to the side. “How is the wound, my friend?”

 

“But a scratch,” Nimwing assured him, flashing a small smile his way. 

 

Aderthon snorted humorously when Eldarion sent him a questioning look. “She's correct. It was not bad at all.”

 

“Good!” Eldarion smiled as Círeth walked over and handed him the wine bottle. 

 

She scowled playfully. “Drink.”

 

“Yes sir,” he replied with a wink.

 

They settled down, all the company trying to calm their adrenaline-crazed bodies. Once they felt more comfortable, Eldarion and Círeth volunteered to watch. Círeth climbed up onto a tall stone formation while Eldarion stayed towards the front. He kept his sword drawn but it never shined again while he stayed on watch. The Dúnedan captain had her bow out, but she did not need to use it either, and soon the company had fallen quiet.


	8. Ancient Halls

**Chapter Eight**

 

Two weeks had passed since the Crossroads Inn, well over three weeks since Minas Tirith. The company continued on, often running out of things to speak about by noon each day. Eglanor and Ambi avoided each other at all costs, but Alagos made sure to intervene before fights broke out. Evidently neither the old elf nor the dwarf particularly liked the other. Quite to the contrary. The disdain was palpable.

 

“We are nearly to the beginning of the path north,” Akilina told Eldarion and Aderthon that twenty-third night from Gondor. “From there it is but nine days across open and semi-forested lands before we reach the base of the Mountains of Rhûn.”

 

They sat together near the fire as the others moved about, settling down. Eldarion’s sword sat out from its scabbard as a warning in case orcs approached. But for now all stayed quiet. Aderthon nibbled at half a piece of cram and some bird meat they'd shot and cooked.

 

“That is good,” Eldarion said with a nod. “These mountains here are wearing on my patience.”

 

With a snort, Aderthon agreed. “You speak correctly. The endless grey is driving me insane.”

 

Akilina actually smiled. “Well, hopefully the Coven’s cave system is not too dull for you.”

 

“Of course not,” corrected Eldarion quickly. “And we will be grateful for the help you bestow on us.”

 

The sun sank fully beneath the horizon about half an hour later. Ambi and Círeth took up their spots as guards. They’d stopped in a small hollow dell, but rocks stood everywhere, often obscuring view. They'd stashed the horses and ponies in the far back and Ambi climbed up opposite Círeth onto a large rubble pile. He took out a black wooden pipe and stuffed it with pipeweed. He’d brought an ample supply, but even that was nearly half gone.

 

The entrance to their little hideaway stood so small and close together that Ambi and Círeth sat but two feet apart. She drew out her small dagger from her boot and a whetstone from her pack. With rhythmic movements she sharpened her blade. Billions of stars shined clear above her. Círeth looked up. A gentle breeze ruffled the few loose strands of her red hair, and she closed her eyes briefly. She felt peaceful. Despite the terrible burden her brother bore, despite the constant looming threat of enemies, her heart loved the freedom of the wild.

 

Two more days of easy travel with no sight of orcs rounded out their trip along the Ash Mountains. Following the direction of Akilina, the company headed due north. She led them by secret paths and hidden trails. For nine rainy days, they moved along open roads and small forest glens until at last on the tenth rainy day, the foot of the Mountains of Rhun came into sight. 

 

“We are close,” Akilina assured them that evening. The sky had darkened, rain clouds obscuring the full moon and the stars. She told them dismount amidst the forest. “From here we walk.”

 

They did as instructed, though Eglanor seemed reluctant to do anything she asked of him. Akilina made sure to remind him that she was being generous by not requiring them to wear blindfolds. He responded with a poorly hidden sneer.

 

A few hours past midnight saw the first signs of life for the company. Akilina had them halt and stay hidden as she crept forward through the trees. They shifted uncomfortably, wholey soaked to the bone and irritated with the darkness around them. The towering pine trees offered some relief, but not enough.

“Follow us.”

 

The company jumped in surprise as a new voice met them in the darkness. They could not see the speaker or the “us” he spoke of. Finally Aderthon noticed movement ahead and realized the black shadow to their right was actually a figure wearing black armor.

 

The man nodded his head, only the glimmer of brown eyes shining through the darkness. “I am Kazimir. Akilina has gone ahead. We will escort you.”

 

Aderthon immediately followed him. The others took their time, Ambi and Eglanor bringing up the read hesitantly. But with the son of Elrohir at the head, they made good time. Not long after, they reached a great arm of the Mountains and in the rock, a small cave entrance sat waiting. Inscribed on a great rock formation to the left of the entrance was the image of a great bird of prey like an eagle. Aderthon could barely make it out in the dark, but it was there, darker than the rest of the stone.

 

“Head inside. Take the horses with you,” Kazimir told them quickly. “Someone will meet you and take them.”

 

After a slight moment of hesitation, Aderthon complied. The first thing he noticed was the dry air. He thanked Elbereth silently and focused on trying not to trip over anything. He could just make out bend in the cavern ahead and it was there that torch light filtered towards them. The ground sloped down steadily, but not so harshly as to be uncomfortable. When at last the whole fellowship reached the light, all breathed sighs of relief.

 

“Welcome, travelers,” came a familiar voice.

 

“Kir,” Eldarion and Aderthon both exclaimed together. Aderthon continued, “We thank you for housing us here.”

 

The man nodded. He had taken off his face mask so all could see the man’s dark and grey peppered hair. Beside him stood Akilina, her own mask removed as well. She gestured to Kazimir who made his way forward, “Take the horses to the stables. See they are well cared for.”

 

“Of course,” nodded the shrouded warrior. Behind the company approached seven similarly garbed men and women who took hold of the other steeds and led them deeper into the cave system.

 

Kir and Akilina spoke quietly in their harsh native tongue. After a moment of conversing, Kir nodded and turned back to the men and women before him. He gestured to them. “Follow us.”

 

With bright torches lighting the large cavern hall to either side, Aderthon and Círeth hurried beside the two Coven leaders. Both had much to discuss with Kir, and looked forward to hopefully getting some time alone with him or with him and Akilina.

 

Ambi looked around and frowned. The cave looked too bland for his dwarf sensibilities. Every now and then a door frame carved intricately out of the stone appeared to their left or right, but mostly it seemed to be an ordinary cave. Stalactites hung from the tremendously tall ceiling, some reaching down and kissing the stalagmites which rose up from the floor. Dripping of water droplets and roar of the torch flames echoed in the pleasantly cool air of the cavern. Finally Kir and Akilina halted before a large cavern doorway.

 

“No one not of the coven has set foot past this place,” Kir told them, his voice low. His face scrunched in seriousness. “I expect you to treat it with the utmost of respect or you will be removed.”

 

They all nodded, Eglanor last of all with a roll of his eyes and patronizing smile. And so Kir, leading them quietly through the chamber entrance, revealed the inner sanctum of the Coven headquarters.

 

A thirty foot statue made of black stone and amber rose up ahead of them, standing tall behind a roaring pit of fire. The figure stood with its left leg forward and greatsword out. It wore armor much like what Coven members were found in.  Great wings, stretching ten feet in either direction, reached almost halfway to the walls of the chamber. The figure’s eyes, crafted of amber, glittered in the firelight. Amber also detailed the sword and the wings.

 

To either side of the firepit and statue ran carven staircases leading to the height of the statue. They reached a large balcony in the middle of which stood a black iron door. Torch sconces lit the area nicely. On the ground in front of the statue and firepit stood many stone benches facing the depiction of Vultur. Two figures sat there, backs to the newcomers.

 

The left side of the massive chamber had a wall of cavern designs and two doorways. To the right side, another smaller staircase led to a room adjacent to their current one, though what lay beyond the doorway there they could not tell.

 

“Incredible,” said Eldarion with a tight breath.

 

Aderthon echoed his statement, walking forward and admiring the statue from a good distance away still. Kir followed him and gestured to the depiction. “This is Vultur, whom we worship. It is he we desire most to emulate as we rid Rhun of all the Shadow’s corruption.”

 

“Mahal’s beard,” murmured Ambi as he joined Aderthon further into the room. “The stonework is impeccable.”

Akilina smiled. “It is said the the first of the Blacklocks aided in the creation of this temple. But whether this is legend or myth, even we do not know.”

 

Eglanor huffed and walked forward as well. “A bit overkill, if you ask me.”

 

Círeth didn’t even hesitate, not bothering to glance his way. “We didn’t.”

 

“We should get you settled,” Kir told them, looking back at the company. “There are rooms this way. Each room contains four beds. Do not take long in deciding where to stay.”

 

He led them through the farther of the two left hand doorways. It opened into a moderately large passageway which they followed until it turned right and opened even further. Every ten feet, a wooden door opened into sleeping quarters. Here they were left to rest.


	9. The Sea of Rhun

They rested in the Coven headquarters for two days. During that time, they stayed inside the cavern fortress while the members of the cult themselves gathered supplies for them to take. On the third morning from their arrival, Akilina came to them as they sat around their room.

"It is time you left," she told them. "We have kept a lookout for Easterlings and have seen little of them. It should be relatively safe for you to travel."

Cireth arched her eyebrow. "Relatively?"

Akilina nodded and gestured for them to follow her. As they did so, carrying their packs, she responded simply. "This is Rhun, Cireth. There is no safety, not even for her people, let alone trespassers."

"How many days of travel until we reach the Sea of Rhun, and then from there how long to the Orocarni?" Aderthon directed his question to their Coven companion, but the answer came from the back of their posse.

"Two weeks to the lake," Eglanor told them immediately. He scoffed suddenly. "Do not call it a sea. I have seen seas, that is not one. It is a large lake." As he was sure the others rolled their eyes he continued, "Then it is a week to where we will enter the mountains."

Ambi snorted. "Lady Akilina, does he speak correctly?"

"Quite," Akilina confirmed as she opened a wooden door to a part of the caverns they hadn't seen before. "Follow me."

The cavern they entered had very little light. Akilina held a torch to light there way and they went deeper into the earth than they guessed the rest of the headquarters was centered in. The walls felt less artificial; clearly they had done minimal carvings. Every twenty feet or so, Akilina would go to a particular spot on the wall and light a torch sconce that only the two elves could otherwise see. Down they went, down and down until they came to a small underground stream.

"Watch your step," Akilina told them as she lit two torches to either side of the entrance of a bridge that was but two feet wide and seven feet long, spanning the river. "The water is deep and fast."

She wasn't wrong. Alagos looked down into the river as they crossed and listened to the rushing water beneath them. He had expected to get colder the deeper they went, but the temperature stayed relatively even the entire way. He walked behind Ambi and before Eglanor, the latter going last in their group.

Suddenly a male voice came from behind them as they all crossed the bridge. "You approach a room that only one but our members has ever seen."

They turned abruptly to see Kir, fully dressed in smooth black armor, face covered except for his eyes, and a matching hood draped over his head. He held no torch. As they watched him curiously, Kir crossed the bridged and joined up with his wife at the front.

Ambi looked around curiously as he was led beside Alagos another twenty feet forward. They came upon a black metal door with the same eagle impression they'd seen inside and around the Cover headquarters. Akilina lit the torch to the side of the door before stepping aside and allowing Kir to enter. He opened the door, pulling it towards the group, and it made no sound. Taking the torch from his wife, he went inside and lit a multitude of sconces.

The light that bounced around the cave room showed the small size area they now entered. It stood maybe ten feet by teen feet, with stalactites and stalagmites growing at all sides. But in the center, sat upon a black iron pedestal, a great gold and black helm shined in the firelight. Its edges had been blackened and burned, slightly scuffed by years of fighting.

Eglanor's eyes narrowed instantly. He knew exactly what sat before him. But he others had no idea, no frame of reference for what artifact they stared at. Kir instantly rectified this. None spoke, not even Eglanor, biting his tongue to keep from spewing scathing comments.

"You stand in the presence of an artifact of our god. Vultur, greatest of all warriors and bane of the Dark One, wore this helm upon the battlefield with his greatest enemies." Kir paused. "We have brought you here to receive the blessing of Vultur. This blessing has been passed down since the founding of our order in the service of Vultur."

Akilina knelt down on a single knee, and the others hesitantly followed suit. Eglanor fell last of all to his knee, glaring at the helmet fiercely. No one else seemed to notice; Kir began speaking in an ancient dialect of Rhunic which none of the visitors understood save Eglanor himself.

The language sounded harsh in their ears, nothing like the smoothness of Sindarin or Quenya, and yet it seemed beautiful nonetheless. It sounded of the chill of the wilds of Rhun, echoed like the rivers of the caverns they occupied, and the wind in the trees of Rhun's forest. When he finally stopped, the helmet almost seemed to glow, and Eglanor actually shied away from the armor piece with his face, turning so his right cheek alone faced it.

A few moments later, Kir told them to rise. "It is time you left. The sun shall be rising in an hour. Akilina will guide you through the forests until you reach the Orocarni."

The woman nodded and stepped forward. "Come."

She led them back the way they'd come, Kir bringing up the rear and extinguishing the torches as they went. But as at last they reached the main corridors of the Coven's headquarters, they found it empty. Usually two or three people would be bustling about, and reliably when they passed a certain area there were five or six children with a guard. When Aderthon turned back to ask Kir about this, he found the man had disappeared.

"Our horses are outside," Akilina reminded them. "Hurry. They are already prepared along with a pack horse laden with food and drink and weapons."

Cireth stayed in step beside her brother. As they walked up the incline to the entrance to the caves, they found where the Coven had gone. To either side of the sloping pathway, the assassins lined up to bid them farewell. Even the children had come. Kir stood at the entrance and when Akilina reached him, she gestured to Aderthon.

"Lord Aderthon of the House of Feanoriel," Kir began quietly when the man walked to him, "your cousin blames me for what has happened." He sent a glance at Eldarion who blushed. "And he is not entirely wrong. It was my duty to stop the evil that grew in Rhun. We did not deal with Halion quickly enough and thus he managed to revive Beruthiel. If I had stopped him, this would not have happened."

Aderthon went to speak but Akilina cut him off. "Be quiet."

Aderthon imagine Kir smirked beneath his facemask. For his eyes twinkled with mirth as he continued. "Therefore we opened our home to you and your companions. But we ask that you swear now silence in these matters. Can you promise that you and your company will speak nothing of what you have seen here, not even to your uncle?"

Aderthon hesitated, glancing back at his company. But after meeting Eldarion's gaze he turned back to Kir. "We swear it. Your trust has been earned."

"Good. Then flee Rhun, Aderthon. Flee it. For only darkness thrives here, though we try our best to change that. Make for the Red Mountains as quickly as possible." He paused. "As long as that ring you bear is intact, the threat remains that evil will thrive again."

Akilina led them out after a brief farewell. Aderthon remained silent, contemplating his words. But Eldarion pushed him forward, nudging him on as he walked past. Cireth went beside Nimwing, and Ambi and Alagos behind them. Eglanor brought up the read and did not miss the strange look Kir sent him, one almost of suspicion. So he smiled back.

They mounted their horses outside in the open air. Thankfully it had not started raining yet, but when they all looked up between the trees to see an even darker than usual sky, each hoped it would stay that way. And fortunately it did - for three days.

On the fourth day, it poured. All day and all night they suffered through wet weather. But Akilina reminded them that fortunately it also drove predators and enemies indoors or out of the rain. Wolves, bears, and humans alike did their best to stay in shelter.

On day eight from the Coven headquarters, Alagos and Cireth managed to bring down a sizable wild boar, providing good meat for a few days. But that next day also saw wolves hungrily biting at their heels as they walked, and as night fell, they realized between howls that it would be an eventful night.

And eventful it was. By half way through the first shift of Ambi and Eldarion's watch, there were rumors of wolves. And by the end of their watch, the attack came. It was dealt with quickly, as once the wolves realized they couldn't overpower them and certainly couldn't focus on a weak point, they drew away in defeat.

Other than the small skirmish with the wolves, they reached the Sea of Rhun unmolested and on schedule. Akilina kept them away from the sea itself as much as possible, for in the western side of the nation, dozens of coastal villages had cropped up throughout the last age.

"Tomorrow we will clear the village areas," Akilina told them as they camped without a fire beneath the bows of the trees of the great forest of Rhun. "From the southeastern tip, we head straight towards the Orocarni."

Eldarion nodded as he ate some dried meat. "Another week from the Sea, correct?"

"Yes."

And so they slept. When they began the next morning and gave the final village a wide berth, they finally found themselves walking along the rocky shore of the Sea of Rhun. For as far as they could see, even the elven members of the company, clear water stretched. The further out they looked, the darker the water appeared. A fierce wind whipped around them, throwing hair strands out of place and knocking hoods off of heads. Besides the lapping of the waves onto the shore, the only sound was the crunching of rocks beneath their feet.

"How far until the southern tip, Akilina?" Cireth asked a few hours into the second day of travel along the Sea of Rhun. "Surely we will be approaching it soon?"

Akilina nodded. "Tonight."

And so they walked. They walked and they walked and they walked. Aderthon and Eldarion remained nearly silent, something Alagos found incredible. But without the usually ever present chatter of the cousins, he found it difficult to talk himself. As the sun went down, and they looked for a place to stop, they caught sight of two pine trees and a group of rocky boulders.

"That might work?" Ambi suggested. "We can stay there for tonight."

"And leave in the morning," Akilina agreed.

As they began to take their packs off in anticipation of camping, Eglanor narrowed his eyes at the rock formation. Aderthon followed his gaze and looked on in confusion. He drew his sword, but it did not glow.

"Come out," Eglanor shouted in the common tongue, gesturing for Alagos to draw his bow. He did so, along with his captain, and they waited to see what would happen.

When at last the person he had spotted did step out into the light of the stars and moon, they found themselves looking at an elf. She stood about Nimwing's height, with wavy, thick reddish brown hair tied back behind her pointed ears. Her armor was crafted of hides and dark metals, fur parts maintaining comfort. In her hands she held a short spear which currently pointed itself straight at the others who stood some fifteen feet away.

When she spoke, they did not understand. Those fluent in Sindarin caught a word or two, but beyond that she might've been speaking Khandian for all they knew. Eglanor, however, knew everything she said and his eyes widened. He responded in the same tongue, much to everyone else's surprise.

"Why are you here," she finally asked in common speech. "Why travel here?"

"Who are you?" Aderthon answered immediately, astonished to hear common tongue coming from the elf maiden who clearly came from nowhere they knew.

"Brilien," she replied, pointing to her chest. "Some of you are elves. Some dwarves. Others men?" She cocked her head curiously but did not lower her weapon. "You come from far? From the West?"

Eldarion answered her, walking forward and holding his hands out in a gesture of goodwill. "We are from the Reunited Kingdom and the lands beyond."

"I know only of these words you speak from tales in the south," she admitted with a frown. "I am Brilien, Chieftess of Kwendi. I know common from travels to my kin the Kinn-lai near Khand." Still she did not lower her weapon. "Why you visit here?"

"We are heading East, to the ruins of Utumno," Aderthon told her, sheathing Galmegil. "We must cross the Red Mountains and travel through foreign lands to do so."

At the word Utumno, she shivered. Nimwing noticed and nodded. "You know the place he speaks of?"

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "I have been there. I have seen it. Why would you want to go?"

Eglanor smirked for a moment. "That is our quest. But tell me, what did you find?"

"We found treasures and weapons beyond imagining," she admitted. "Metals we cannot forge and spells which we cannot break. But I and my brothers are of the few that have traveled there and made it back alive." She shuddered. "I do not enjoy going."

"Well, we must," Aderthon said with a sigh. "Put down your spear, my lady. We will not fight you."

Brilien narrowed her eyes. But eventually she did as he implored. "If you intend to go to Utumno, you will need a guide through the far lands between here and there. I would be saddened if you died because I say no." Eglanor rolled his eyes and said something to her in her language. She snorted but shook her head and turned back to Aderthon, "But you are not all elf. Sleep for the night. Then we leave."


End file.
